


What Comes With Spring

by Kristen_APA



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, and other guest stars - Freeform, plus a variation of BB before BB was canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 23:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16458881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristen_APA/pseuds/Kristen_APA
Summary: [Written Post S4CS, now AU] Anna, John, and their daughter celebrate Easter together. [fluffy mushy stuff yet again]





	What Comes With Spring

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Another fic that was originally on Tumblr and Fanfiction net. I say "another," but who knows what order AO3 will sort this or the order you chose to click! Again, this was posted in 2014 and then made AU as the show continued. Here are the original notes from posting it on FF net:
> 
> _"This idea popped into my head because I realized that Highclere Castle has a big Easter egg hunt every year. There 's a bit of basis from my fic "What Love Gave Us," but not completely again, so it's another AU of an AU or whatever. ;) I can't make my own timeline work and there's other obvious changes, but a lot of my post-S4 fic is loosely connected I guess lol. Anyway more of that cheesy fluffy stuff that write. I had kinda a hard time with this one because my attention was divided thanks to plot bunnies for other fic(s) invading my mind."_
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own _Downton Abbey._

Almost every Easter, Downton Abbey hosted an annual egg hunt for the village. There had been exceptions over the years, mostly due to the war, and others because the house was preparing for weddings or such things.

Anna’s own wedding anniversary was in April, as was the anniversary of when she first met her husband. Thus the Easter holiday had always been near events important to her. Last year at seen not only an additional occasion added to the calendar, but also an addition to the Bates family, when their daughter Margaret was born.

Learning that they were expecting been a surprise, but a joyous one. Something that they had yearned for and dreamed of for so many years had come to fruition. While nothing could rid them of the shadows completely, things were the brightest now than they had ever been.

The servants all took part in helping set up the event, with Mr Carson and the footmen traditionally hiding the eggs themselves. The previous year Anna and John did not attend due to Margaret’s birth in the weeks before, but this time they pitched in as many from the village did. They were now the proud owners of the Grantham Arms, the previous proprietor retiring soon after the couple learned the news of Anna’s pregnancy, and the timing was perfect as they started a new chapter in their lives together.

Anna and John’s station today was the refreshments booth, which allowed for their daughter to stay in her pram behind them. However, she was the center of attention as their friends and former colleagues stopped by to coo and fawn over her in-between their duties. Even Thomas only had nice words to say, before heading off to reprimand the village boys rough-housing at the egg dyeing station.

Mrs Hughes took her break in the tea tent, bouncing the little girl on her lap. Today Margaret was dressed in a little white dress with frills, her wispy dark curls adorned with a pink bow, and tiny white Mary Jane shoes on her feet.

“And that’s the maypole,” the housekeeper said pointing to the older children dancing in a circle around it. “And when you are old enough, you’ll get to play that too.”

Anna smiled, knowing that this was probably the closest Mrs Hughes was going to get to being a grandmother. She had acted as Anna’s own mother for so long and had been there when she needed her the most. The younger woman was very glad that her mentor would also be a part of her daughter’s life as well.

Mrs Hughes caught her grin and returned. “She’s truly a princess, Anna.” She smoothed the baby’s hair.

“Well, she’s our little princess at any rate.”

At that moment, Lord Grantham announced that it was time to begin the main event. Anna looped Margaret’s small basket on her arm, and then took the little girl from Mrs Hughes, giving John a good-bye smile as she headed to group of children and their parents.

Upon seeing Master George and Miss Sybbie, dressed in their own Easter finest, Margaret grew excited and wiggled in hopes of getting down. Anna knelt and placed her gently on the ground and she stood unsteadily babbling with glee.

The former lady’s maid was never quite sure the Dowager ever really approved of the child of their once servants playing alongside her great-grandchildren, but both Mr Branson and Lady Mary welcomed it as if there was no class divisions between them. It was a little odd, as Anna felt more in-between worlds now. Typically she’d be donned in black, and many years ago, adorned with a white pinafore apron. But times had changed, and the circumstances with them. While she’d never match Lady Mary’s finery, today she wore a loose lavender dress trimmed with frills, and if the townspeople didn’t already know her, they wouldn’t have guessed that she had once worked in that daunting castle that loomed behind them for more than half her life.

John watched from the shade of the refreshment tent as Anna held their daughter’s hand, the baby toddling on chubby legs toward a brightly colored egg. Emotions bubbled up in him, thinking about how much they had to go through to get to this point. If there was anything this past decade had taught him, it was not to take anything for granted. But as he gazed at them, his heart full of love, and his eyes misty, he was reminded of how those dreams once spoken in hushed tones at the servants’ hall table had finally came to realization. They had faced some of the toughest of hardships, and they weren’t the quite same people who had sat at that table that night, but they had made it through and still were, day by day.

Mrs Hughes’ voice shook him out of his thoughts. “Go ahead and join them, I can take care of things here.”

He thanked her, and walked across the lawn as fast as his leg would allow him to rejoin his family. Master George, who was on the quieter side more than his cousin, was holding out an egg to Margaret. Anna was crouched down, and helping her place it in the basket, thanking the little boy. Miss Sybbie shrieked in delight as she spotted another nestled in the roots of a tree further along, and the two cousins raced each other for it. Mr Branson gleefully followed in pursuit, Lady Mary trailing behind with Lady Edith, her sister looking extremely wistful.

“How are we doing?” John asked upon reaching them. Margaret was poking along the flowers and then sat herself down, playing with a dandelion.

“I’m afraid we’ll end up with more grass stains than eggs.” Anna sighed, but still beamed. “We only have two.”

“I think two is good for a little girl who’s only just turned one.” He directed this more towards his daughter than his wife. Although she didn’t understand his words, she knew her father’s voice, and now clung onto his trouser leg. He bent down to pick her up, and then balanced her on his left hip, his weight shifted to that side to take the pressure off of his bad knee. Margaret grabbed a hold his tie, her little tiny finger clasped around the fabric.

Anna laughed, “There she goes again.” She gently removed it from the baby’s hands and tucked it back into his waistcoat. “No dear, your father’s tie isn’t yours to play with.” She gave his chest a pat, her fingers ghosting his shirt. She looked up into her husband’s face, first meeting his eyes and then being drawn in by his lips. She had a plan.

“Didn’t Thomas used to hide some eggs in the courtyard?”

John wasn’t sure he had an answer for that. “Perhaps.” Then a memory crossed his mind. “Actually he did at least one year, because William found a rotten one months later than had been forgotten.”

The nostalgia of their fallen colleague was bittersweet, but a fond one. After a moment, Anna declared, “Let’s check the courtyard then before returning to our post. Margaret’s getting a bit tired.” She was right, the little girl’s eyes were drooping and her head was dropping to her father’s shoulder.

He passed the baby to his wife, but collected the egg basket. He could carry Margaret at home, crossing only short distances, but he conceded that he needed the aid of his cane for the trek to the backside of the house. He had worried so much that his leg would not allow him to keep up with his children, but thus far his worries were unfounded.

The under-butler had hidden a few eggs in what was once Anna and John’s meeting spot away from prying eyes in the early years of their relationship. As he reached up to grab an egg on top of a Whitby Fish Supply crate (how exactly Thomas had expected children to find it, he was unsure), he realized that Anna must have had some ulterior motive for retreating here.

She was paused there in the courtyard, echoes of the past playing out before her. “This place has seen a lot of memories haven’t they.”

“Indeed. Good and bad.” He smiled. “Mostly good.” He placed the egg in the basket and then set it on the outdoor table. He crossed back over the small distance, shortening the space between him and his wife.

Anna shifted Margaret in her arms, who nuzzled her face against her mother’s neck. John reached out and stroked their daughter’s hair. His eyes met Anna’s, who gave him a nod, and he brought his fingers up to cradle her face. His hand dropped to her waist, bringing them in close. They both leaned in, sharing a sweet kiss, Anna’s plan fulfilled. As they pulled apart, their eyes found each other, full of love and adoration. Life had thrown them some of the cruelest and horrible twists, but thanks to each other, they had been able to come through the darkest of times together. Now it was the three of them as a family, embarked on this new chapter of their lives, the brightest.

 

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N:** Here are the original ending notes from posting this on FF net:
> 
> _"It's probably painfully obvious I'm not very good at writing kids, but hopefully it wasn't too bad. I've still got some other fluffy one-shots I'm working on, so look out for those if that's your kind of thing. Thank you for reading!"_


End file.
